


Frozen in Time

by CasanovaCanSoar



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Bill and Runner lament over their feelings, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, They Dont Talk About It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasanovaCanSoar/pseuds/CasanovaCanSoar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Runner and Chuckler always had a spark, but they just never dealt with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frozen in Time

**Author's Note:**

> There is use of the slur "Jap" once in this work. It features WWII American marines fighting in the Pacific Theater, and I am only acquainted with knowledge from this show and Gen. Kill about marine language, so let me know if I slip up, but I tried not to mention any titles and such. 
> 
> Also, this is a work based solely off of the actors' portrayals of these characters. This is not in any way meant to disrespect the real men these portrayals are based off.

There was a moment that stunned Lew. It was on Guadalcanal and the Japs were shelling the camp. It was when Lucky pushed himself against the wall and cried, Hoosier grabbed the dog that had been plodding alongside him for the past week, and Runner grabbed him. He was all joints and edges pressed up against him, thrown into him all of a sudden. He remembers Leckie shouting, “Bud! Bud, we gotta’ go!”  
     

Now, Bud’s back is arched into his chest and stomach, and he grabbed Chuckler’s arm and curled it around himself. Lew was completely frozen. When Bud started shivering against him as the ground rattled with the force of the shells falling on top of them, he melted around him, the comfort radiated between them. Lew soaked it into his skin like a frog takes in water. He lowered his head over Bud’s and began murmuring comfort into his ear, echoing the words Hoosier used to comfort the poor dog in his arms.

“We’re okay. It’s going to be okay, Bud.” Bud couldn’t hear anything over the sound, Chuckler’s voice had always had a soft tone to it, hard to hear over the sounds of weaponry unless he screamed. He didn’t need the words, the hot breath against his ear and back of his neck was enough. He felt Lew curl himself protectively around him when a shell hit on the scary side of “almost-too-close.”

There was a darkly humorous part of Lew’s mind that thought that the dinosaurs must have dealt with this. True to his name, he laughed, just gentle huffs, into his friend’s ear. Runner was too scared to analyze the swift pattern, just reveling in the wall of warm safety, or the closest thing to safety he had. Over the night, Hoosier, Leckie, and the dog migrated towards Chuckler. He was ever the mother figure, the warmth and careful concern that permeated the thick skins of his friends. Bill had wedged himself in the space between the back of Chuckler’s legs and the mud wall, and Lucky had molded himself over both Lew and Wilbur’s legs and pressed his face into Hoosier’s side.

They stayed like that, their small family - Mother and Father, two kids, and a dog. Through the rest of the night, each thought to themselves, _Will I ever have a family as strong as this?_

The morning stretched its fingers into their bunker, reflecting off the dirt and creating a soft glow. It took the call of other marines for them to untangle their limbs. They started off slowly, Leckie first, then Bill and his dog, then finally Runner and Chuckler together. None of them talked about, like they didn’t talk about a lot of things.

 

There was the restful time after Guadalcanal in Australia, where they could forget the things they saw in drink and women. Sid found a lovely girl with a stern grandfather, Chuckler’s smile won him many drinks and kisses from glossy lips, Lucky spent his lucky days wooing a Greek girl and staying with her family, and Runner and Hoosier found comfort in each other. Bill hated the bars, but if he got free drinks, Bud was able to convince him to go. They asked too many questions of their time on that shitty, little island, and Hoosier especially hated the attention. They kept their heads down and out of trouble, talking quietly to themselves about things back home.

“I usedta’ go see this small dog jus’ down the road from me,” Bill’s words slurred with accent and drink. “He was so small and fiery, but he liked me. Reminds me of Leckie.”

Bill had done that a lot lately, saying things reminded him of Leckie. Bud had done the same about Lew. Neither really stopped to think about what it could mean.

“Maryetta and I would race down the street to a small bread place after school. There was a big, mean-looking dog, living in an alley off scraps. We used to run from him for weeks, until I tripped and he caught up to me. Maryetta tried to wave him off with a stick, but he just jumped on top of me and starting licking me to death.”

“Lemme’ guess, he reminds you of Chuckler?” Bill drawled into his beer, words causing the drink to bubble against his lips. Runner looked down at the sticky table, nodding.

They talked back and forth, until the lonesome Gibson sat down and roped Runner into singing drunkenly together. Hoosier snorted at their antics, but hummed along at the songs he knew. Bill looked out across the bar, searching for a man he knew was bunking up with a pretty girl. A wave of loneliness circled him, and he ignored it again that day, favoring his drink as a distraction.

 

Gloucester would have drowned them, it should have. They sat atop the crates in the supply tent, their own little hideout. The other men left them their space, finding other cracks and crevices that offered shelter from the eternal rain. Cigarettes were almost too damp to smoke, but there wasn’t anything else to do but be angry at the world or chain-smoke cheap cigarettes. Runner was sitting on top of a crate of some mystery thing, the words had been washed away by the humidity. Lew was pressed up against him, shoulder pressing extra warmth into his skin. It was hot and wet, but at least no mosquitoes managed to buzz in their ears with all the rain. They barely talked anymore, rather sitting about and playing cards or making coffee. Leckie was complaining, as usual. Bill was snapping at him and getting pissed, as usual. Eventually, Sid dragged them out of there, saying to go somewhere else. Sid didn’t stay long after that, going out to find Gibson, who had disappeared again. Gibson, along with other marines, had become a subject of worry and fear. Men feared losing so much humanity, and they worried after their friends, not knowing if their humanity was gone forever.

“Do you think Gibson will be okay?” Runner looked over at Lew. Bud had sprawled himself out along a few crates, stretching his legs and leaning his back against Chuckler’s side. He had to twist his head back to see his friend, who was looking towards the entrance to the tent. They had taken up place in the corner, where it was a bit less damp, but it was away from the entrance, so they couldn’t see anyone coming and going.

“I don’t know, Bud.” Lew pursed his lips, his brow curved down in his patented motherly frown. Bud and the others teased his for always looking after them, but he never seemed to mind. “What do you think?”

Runner just shook his head, jostling Chuckler’s shoulder a bit with the motion. There really was no way of telling, and it scared them both a bit to be talking about it. “I hope I don’t become that.”

Lew twisted towards him at the tremble in his voice. “You won’t.”

Despite the complete certainty in his voice, Runner couldn’t believe him. His hands began to shake, breath coming quick. “We’ll never get off this fucking island.”

Chuckler really did start then, turning his body towards Bud, who fell back onto his chest. Lew, ever worried about his friends getting hurt, wrapped his arms around Bud’s waist to prevent him from falling off the crates. Time froze then, echoing a memory a lifetime ago, hot breath in Bud’s ear, wrapped in warmth and safety, what he missed so bitterly in Melbourne. His breath caught in his throat, thick and wet like this place. Frustrated tears gathered in his ears, and he grit his teeth and tried not to make a sound.

“Bud?” His voice was so hesitant, so concerned, that Bud’s chest ached. It was the final piece to cause his calm to fail. He sucked in a rattling, teary breath, and it came out in a series of soft sobs. They were quiet and whimpery, the sounds of a man trying not to be broken.

“Oh, Bud. I’m here. I’m here.” Lew shushed him, rubbing his large hands up and down soothingly. He felt Lew press his face into his hair, his neck, and felt wet eyelashes touch his skin. He paused, sniffling, eyes wide. Tilting his head towards him, he whispered, “Lew?”

Chuckler pulled back, eyes teary and lip quivering the smallest bit, and their eyes stared into each other. Time kept freezing for them, when each wished it would move along so fast. Bud felt a tear track down to his lips, and he tried to catch it on his tongue, dragging it along his bottom lip. Chuckler watched him, eyes flickering down and back up. Some magnetism, something in that moment, maybe the fact that they knew they needed each other, drew them in. It was simple, it was easy, and it was necessary for their survival.

Lew went in first, pushed his lips against Bud’s with the soft care they all had come to know him by. The angle hurt Bud’s neck, but he relaxed into the kiss, eyes slipping shut. Lew drew back, only to kiss him again, moving his lips so slowly. It was the headiest kiss of Bud’s life. His hands rested on Lew’s and he sighed through his nose.

They drew back, looking at each other with some new understanding. They didn’t say anything about that, moved themselves from each other when footsteps approached, not with the rushed hurriedness of shamefaced teenagers, but as friends curious to see if Sid had found Gibson. They never talked about that kiss again, but sometimes would catch each other looking, curling their lips into a gentle smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I've always loved the chemistry between these two, and I feel like this would happen in Gloucester. This isn't meant to encompass their entire relationship - who knows, maybe I'll write more about them.  
> Leave a comment if I messed up in here, or even about future ideas!


End file.
